


Crooks and Cartoon Villains

by tooweirdtolivetoogaytodie



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV), Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Crossover, Developing Relationship, Drama, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Murder, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Slow Burn, Suspense, Thriller, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:02:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24122548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tooweirdtolivetoogaytodie/pseuds/tooweirdtolivetoogaytodie
Summary: Ricky is a modern day Jack the Ripper. His M.O.? He paints the faces and hands of his victims gold, and leaves them in the unlikeliest of places. Six have died by his hands already, and he doesn't show any signs of stopping.C.C. is among New York's finest detectives, having put numerous crooks behind bars in his short time at the 99. The Goldsworth case, though? His hardest one yet. With a little help from the squad, he's sure he can get Ricky behind bars, but...suddenly he's not so sure.When Ricky shows up at his door, drunk and broken down, Tinsley knows what he should do.But what he should do and what he wants to do have become two completely different things.
Relationships: Ricky Goldsworth/C. C. Tinsley
Kudos: 21





	Crooks and Cartoon Villains

**Author's Note:**

> Note: "Crooks and Cartoon Villains" is merely a working title, and is subject to change.

_Ricky Goldsworth is a monster,_ is the only thought that seems to ricochet through his mind. It's all he knows, ingrained in every inch of him, his DNA, his blood runs through his veins with the knowledge and it tears him up inside. Makes him want to scream.

He stays silent and pulls his jacket tighter to his chest.

The night is cold, but the body at Tinsley's feet is colder. A breeze tousles his hair but it does nothing to put him at ease.

Another person lies dead and it's his fault.

He's not shocked by the bodies anymore, has become desensitized to their terrified, frozen eyes, their clammy hands and golden skin, and ever since his third case he’s learned to slide their eyelids shut. He doesn't learn their names anymore. It's not important to the case.

This one, though? This one might be the worst he’s seen. A man - pale as the moon (under the paint, at least), with shocking crimson hair. A college student. He looks like a vampire after a particularly long night. His hands, lying limp by his side, are stained vermillion, and match his hair. Without question Tinsley knows the cause of death. Two long gashes across his throat tell him all he needs to know. The man - no, the _boy's_ torso is covered in his own blood, his AC/DC shirt sticky and ruined with it. His blue eyes are piercing, making the detective feel almost frozen in place - and they seem to plead, begging the universe to give him his life back.

He is so young.

He will never know the bubbly, sweet taste of a good champagne on his tongue; he will never again stay up all night with friends, feeling their laughter fill the room as the sun peeks its head above the horizon; he will never read another word on a page and let a story consume him, or listen to another song whose melody makes him want to shout. He will never marry. He will never fall in love with someone who puts the clock’s hands to rest and brings back the colour in his cheeks.

He’ll never see another sunrise.

Tinsley almost can’t handle it. He sways on his feet, a hurricane of thoughts whirling in his mind. The detective reaches out, puts a trembling hand on the stained brick wall to steady himself. _Pull it together, Tins. It’s just a body._ Nothing he hasn’t seen before. Why, then, does he seem so affected?

He remembers being twenty years old. How the nights always seemed to hold so much promise, and the day was always waiting for him, warm and sunny and filled with joy. How he had his whole life laid out in front of him, how he’d so looked forward to the years ahead.

He is throwing his life away chasing crooks and cartoon villains. How _insolent_ of him to stand here drenched in pity and grief for someone he’d never know, wasting precious seconds on people who deserved to rot alone in ditches and be eaten by vultures when this poor, poor boy had been denied those same seconds to sing and laugh and live. How can he stand here and mock him like this?And again, he is swaying on his feet and he must look very pale because Jeffords comes over and puts a hand on his shoulder and asks is he alright.

He hasn't been alright for quite some time now.

_Ricky Goldsworth, you’d better watch your back._


End file.
